


The story of tonight

by BaneKicksDavid



Series: College AU [2]
Category: Hey! Say! JUMP
Genre: #KeitosHardLife, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Mentions of alcohol, One Night Stand, all he wants to do is stay in and watch movies, hikaru's abs, one bad decision ruins everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 06:38:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8391085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaneKicksDavid/pseuds/BaneKicksDavid
Summary: The moment Keito woke up, feet tangled in the sheets and the early morning light casting shadows on his face, it was hard to keep himself from swearing. This wasn’t what he wanted to happen.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This also started out as an idea of two people meeting after a one night stand, and it somehow turned into this mammoth. Whoops?

The moment Keito woke up, feet tangled in the sheets and the early morning light casting shadows on his face, it was hard to keep himself from swearing. This wasn’t what he wanted to happen. 

He wanted to blame Chinen for everything. When Yamada’s invitation came through their group chat, Keito was already preparing his response, a sweet decline that he wanted to spend the evening in his room. The moment Chinen’s message came through, an acceptance of the invitation, he immediately retracted everything. He couldn’t be the only one in their friend group to not go.

_I mean, if Chinen is going. I guess I’ll go too._

Yamada sent a smiling emoji before Keito could process what he was doing, and Yuto spammed gifs of different celebratory scenes before Yamada yelled at him. 

He had never gone to a club before. The closest experience was when Yamada dragged to a house party a few weeks after they met. His friend had disappeared for a few minutes after they arrived, leaving Keito to stand awkwardly by the door, feeling the pulsing beat of the music through his feet. He kept crossing and uncrossing his hands, standing on his tip toes to try and see if Yamada’s small form was pushing its way back to him or not. 

“Sorry,” Yamada said upon his return. He handed Keito a bottle of what he could only guess could be beer. “Ran into a classmate and they wanted to talk. I didn’t mean to take so long.”

“It’s fine,” Keito said. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

He took a gulp and tried not to gag. The taste of carbonated golden wheat wouldn’t leave his mouth no matter how much he coughed, and the burn of the alcohol made him feel weak. 

“You don’t drink very often, do you?” Yamada rubbed circles into his back. “If you’re going to drink that, drink it slow until you get used to it. Don’t follow my lead.”

They hadn’t stayed much longer. Yamada had wandered off a few times to talk to people he recognized, but Keito never moved from his spot by the door, clinging to the amber liquid slowly turning warm in his hands. He was overjoyed when Yamada finally suggested they leave. Finally, he could return home to the comfort of his own bed and forget the ten minutes of hell he had been through. 

Keito had vowed never to get dragged out again. Going to a friend’s to hang out was fine, but there was something about being in a sea of people he didn’t know, had never seen before, unnerved him. Chinen had been his saving grace all those months. Since they began rooming together during their freshman year of college Saturday evenings were their night. They’d curl up on Keito’s bed, marathoning movies or games until they fell asleep in the early morning light. As long as Chinen declined, Keito had a reason to stay home as well.

That simple response, that single word response Chinen gave, had ruined everything. He felt an obligation to his friends, and to Chinen, to go as well. It couldn’t be any worse then the party, but what did people even wear to clubs?

“Not what you’re wearing,” Yamada had given him the once over. “I’m not letting you walk out of here in a hoodie and jeans. You’ll look stupid.”

“Maybe I want to look stupid,” Keito pouted. At least he had clothes on. He had been standing around in his boxers not ten minutes before, struggling to decide what exactly to wear. In the end, he favored comfort.

Yuto and Chinen were completely oblivious to the argument taking place. They were both on Chinen’s bed taking selfies together, Yuto pulling the smaller boy close for photos. 

Yamada rubbed his temples. “Fine, you can keep the jeans, but at least put on a darker wash?”

It took Yamada roughly five minutes of combing through Keito’s closet to find clothes he deemed ‘worthy’ of going out in and another ten to convince Keito to change. Most of which was dedicated to Yuto pinning him and Yamada going on a tickle rampage until Keito gave in. 

“I feel like it doesn’t fit right,” Keito sighed. He had to keep tugging on the hem of the blazer to keep it from riding above the top of his jeans. 

“You look good, Keito,” Chinen chimed in. 

“Yeah.” Yuto was practically bouncing down the street. “You should dress like this more often!” 

“Ah, thank you?” he smiled. 

He wasn’t sure quite how to take those compliments. He had never really cared for fashion. Even in his study abroad to England a year ago, he had always worn a hoodie to class when it was getting cold, ignoring his mother’s messages about how he needed to look nicer in one of the fashion capitals of the world. 

“Relax.” Yamada nudged him. “It’s just a club. You look fine.”

Keito shrugged. “I can’t help it.”

“I know,” Yamada said, linking their arms together as they walked through the cool autumn air. “It’s why I love you so much.” 

“You’ve said that before,” Keito said, tugging at the hem of his jacket once more. “When you think I hate you but…I could never hate you, Yama-chan.”

“Just needed to remind you is all,” Yamada muttered, pulling Keito closer. 

It didn’t take them long to get in, the line being oddly short for a Saturday evening, as Yamada put it. It took a moment for the bouncer to look over their IDs before Yuto bounded into the club on a seek and destroy mission, his words, to find them a table.

The crowd seemed to swallow them whole the deeper they moved into the club, the pulsing beat of the music permeating the air they breathed. The more they walked, snaking through the groups of people standing, talking, and dancing along to the beat, the more Keito’s heart fell in line.

It was out of control. He felt suffocated. The only thing that felt real was Yamada’s hands circling his wrist, pulling him through the crowds as they tried to follow Yuto deeper in. How could people stand this? He wanted to give up and turn back around. God, why did he agree to go?

“Found him,” Yamada shouted. He wiggled his cell phone in front of Keito’s face, showing Yuto lounging in a booth, a beer already in hand. “Did you see where Chinen went?”

Chinen was nowhere behind them.

“I’ll forward the photo to him,” Yamada said. “Let’s get to the booth and we’ll get drinks from there.”

After a few more selfies, Chinen being included in a few, and a couple of angry texts later, they finally located their booth. The wild waving hands of Yuto drew their attention as the beanpole of a man all but jumped up and down on the cushions to flag them down.

“About time,” he huffed, plopping down. “I was about to go out on a search and rescue mission. Here,” he thrust a glass into Keito’s hand, “drink. It doesn’t have alcohol in it.”

Keito raised an eyebrow.

“Well,” Yuto shrugged. “Not a lot anyways.”

Time passed painfully slow. With each throb of the music, his growing reluctance to leave began to overwhelm him. The crowds they traversed to find their table had been difficult enough. The dance floor was out of the question. He couldn’t imagine being jam packed together with a thousand people shaking their hips to the music. It was not an experience anything these crowds had to offer. 

He couldn’t be like Yuto, flitting around from person to person, laughing and joking with strangers he barely knew. He couldn’t be like Chinen, smiling and laughing along to Yuto’s jokes, and following the taller man no matter where he ventured. He certainly couldn’t be like Yamada either, dancing with strangers, letting the beat of the music guide him through the night. 

He clung to the booth, his only friend, and watched over his friends’ drinks. Even with his beer turning warm, the dull taste making him choke more often than naught, he refused to get up. Not even Chinen’s puppy dogs eyes could warm his heart.

Yamada wasn’t pleased. Whenever his best friend got close, Keito could see the gentle frown was on his face before Yuto handed him another glass or Yamada was dragged back to dance by a random girl he met. 

“If you’re not gunna dance, you might as well drink,” Yamada said, pushing a tall glass of a red and orange liquid his way. “And I’m not leaving until you finish it.”

Even for his short stature, Yamada could be intimidating, arms crossed over his chest as he stared down Keito. 

A nervous hand reached out to grab the cool glass, the condensation cooling his heated skin. He brought it closer, other hand steadying the straw, as he took a tentative sip. Orange, cranberry and was that peach? There was a slight burn as it slid down Keito’s throat, but it was far better than the beer that was still half empty by his side. He guzzled it down in a moment, the flavor still mixing around his tongue as he let out a sigh.

“Hm?” he cocked his head.

“You,” Yamada stuttered. “You weren’t supposed to drink that, that fast.”

“But it was good.”

“No, you don’t understand.” Yamada scrambled into the booth. “I had them made it a double. It’s probably more liquor you’ve had your entire life. You weren’t supposed to drink that, that fast.”

“Yeah,” Keito nodded. “But it was good, so I drank it.”

“Shit, Keito, if you’re gunna drink like that, we might as well get you trashed,” Yamada said. He slowly scooted out of the booth, never breaking eye contact with Keito. “I’ll be back in a second.”

Around his the middle of his second drink he could feel his head starting to get lighter. Yuto’s silly puns made him laugh a lot louder. He could feel his rigid spine start to uncoil, letting him sink into the cushions of their curved booth. 

By the third, his fingers felt numb. He couldn’t help but rub small circles into his fingertips to make sure they still felt real. His vision swam every time he turned his head and couldn’t help but laugh at the sensation. It was as if a circus was parading by his eyes, pulling him in and pushing him back with every whip of his head.

When he started his fourth was when he could feel everything. Yuto’s kicking his legs by him. How Chinen’s body felt, pulling him into a hug in his own drunk stupor. 

He did like how Yamada felt. How close he was and how his drunken mind focused on all of those small details and touches Yamada gave. Yamada had warned him before, how he was a touchy feely type of drunk, but nothing could compare to experiencing it. 

His body burned where Yamada touched him. The breath from his lungs was swept away each time Yamada leaned over him, pressing a hand to Keito’s thigh, so he could yell something to Chinen over the beat of the music. How Yamada rested his head on his shoulder to laugh about something stupid Yuto said. He most certainly did like how Yamada’s hot breath felt in his ear, saying how they should dance before pulling Keito off to the dance floor. 

It was weird how, even in a moment, Keito could forget all of those people he couldn’t stand. They all became witnesses to their dance. As they move together, becoming one, the heat between them in unbearable. When their skin brushed, even just for a moment, it sent fire coursing through Keito’s veins. Each second felt like an eternity, a moment he wanted to stay wrapped in until he blinked. And its over. Yet the next one always began. 

He let Yamada lead, getting lost in those damned hips grind long circles into Keito’s own. He can feel his breath go ragged. Beads of sweat drip down his arms, and he grips onto Yamada’s hips, pulling their bodies even closer. He could swear he heard Yamada moan, or was that just the music? His mind can’t seem to process anything his body is doing.

Deep down in his mind, he can feel this isn’t a good idea. He should be back, safe, at the booth, downing another drink or at least a glass of water. He should be the responsible friend, but the alcohol is clouding his vision and he actions. All he wants to feel is Yamada.

The kiss is unexpected, sweet and sultry on his lips. His heart seems to explode with every second those soft, plush lips are on his. He feels like he’s flying. Going through the night’s sky with the wind on his back, pushing him forward and forward into unknown territory. All he knows is he wants more, and to never let this moment go.

He doesn’t remember the invitation back to Yamada’s. He doesn’t remember if they told Yuto and Chinen they were leaving either. He vaguely remembers the walk back, stumbling over curbs and catching themselves before they fell, and the laughter that falls between the two of them.

He stumbled through Yamada’s dark apartment, Keito fell once, or twice, as Yamada laughed, pulling him off the floor and trying to guide their drunkenness to his bedroom. He remembers how Yamada helped him out of his blazer, hands clawing to get his shirt over his head as quickly as he could. Clothes scattered the more they moved together, the closer they became until their bodies became one.

Then darkness. 

The early morning light casting dark shadows onto his face, a heavy pounding coursing through his head. They were so close to each other, noses nearly touching. He could count the eyelashes on Yamada’s cheeks if he wanted. Keito could feel how their legs were intertwined amongst the sheets tangled around their feet. 

Before he could think, before he could process anything, he pulled himself out of bed. Mind racing, scrambling, as he tried to find his discarded clothing. Mind aching, pounding, he couldn’t quite figure out where his head went in his shirt. No matter how he searched, his underwear remained hidden, so he slid into his jeans as he hunted down his blazer.

Flashes of memories danced across his vision as he scrambled around the bedroom to collect his belongings. Yamada’s hands running down his back. The feeling of his tender skin under Keito’s mouth, kissing and marking that neck as his own. 

If only he had a time machine. He’d go back and rewrite history so this night never happened.

He found his underwear, stashed in the corner by the door. He stuffed them the best he could into his jacket pocket before leaving, the front door clicking behind him softly.

An eternity passed before the elevator came, and, once inside, Keito closed his eyes and couldn’t help but hope that no one will be up this early. He wanted no one to lay witness to his shame. 

But luck never seemed to favor him. 

The fifth floor brought a new person in, roughly the same height as Keito himself, hair ruffled as if he hardly slept the night before. His white button up was open, exposing his toned abs, as he yawned and hit the button for the lobby. 

He couldn’t help but look at the other occupant’s chest. It gave his pounding mind something to focus on rather the thoughts racing through head. The curves and valleys of the other man’s chest were something he could appreciate in such a small space.

‘Shit, I hope he didn’t catch me looking.’ He shifted his attention down to the floor. He wanted this ride to be over with.

“Guess you had a fun night too.”

“Huh?”

The guy is focused on buttoning up his shirt, but with one of his free fingers motioned in Keito’s direction.

His boxers. 

He can feel his heart beat pick up as he shoved them deeper, but those damn pockets were only so big. “Not really.”

The elevator dinged and doors opened to the small lobby. He vaguely remembered it from the few times Yamada had pushed him through to get to his apartment, but he wasn’t there to appreciate the details of it now. He needed to get out. Put that evening behind him. Ten minutes. It’s all it would take him back to campus and he could continue to wash the memories from his mind and figure out a way to clear the air with Yamada.

“I’m Yaotome.” The guy was still following him, waiting at the same light to cross the street. “Don’t call me that though. I prefer to go by my first name, Hikaru.”

“Ah, I’m Keito.”

The crosswalk turned green, and he all but ran across the painted walkway. The less people he met the better. Every person he passed, though few and far between, he could feel their all-knowing looks. They knew what he did. Safety. He needed to be locked in his room, and to spend the next year there until graduation. 

“Listen,” Hikaru said. He linked his arms with Keito’s. “If anyone sees us now they’re not gunna think what you’re thinking. Relax. We’re just two dudes being bros.”

Keito stopped and looked at the other male. “I don’t get it. Why are you being so nice to me? You don’t know me.”

“I dunno,” Hikaru shrugged. “Sometimes my cold, lifeless heart sees someone with a wicked hangover and I can’t help but reach out. Wish it wouldn’t cause that means I have to talk to people but, eh, you learn to live with the emotions.”

“Yaotome-san, you’re weird.”

“Hey.” Hikaru elbowed Keito’s side. “I thought I told you not to call me that.”

“Sorry, Hikaru-san.”

Hikaru laughed, low and hearty, and it brought a smile to Keito’s face. “We’ll work on that. But you’ve got my attention for the next...let’s call it nine minutes and don’t tell me you’ve got somewhere to be. No one has to be some place at six-thirty in the morning looking like you do.”

“And what about you?” Keito asked. He freed his arm from Hikaru’s clutches. “You’re up early on a Sunday just like me.”

“I happen to be a responsible college student going to work, so don’t worry about me,” Hikaru said, nudging Keito forward. “Come on, let’s walk and talk, cause no one should be looking as frantic as you.”

His steps were small and tentative compared to the long strides that Hikaru took as he walked. Keito scurried along the sidewalk to keep up with the pace Hikaru was setting. The more they walked he was able to better collect his thoughts.

“I,” he started. “I did something horrible last night. I slept with my best friend.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah?” Keito said. He kept his eyes on his feet as they shuffled along. “We’ve been friends for a year but both of us got trashed and we slept together last night.”

“Ah,” Hikaru said, most intelligently. “So the sex was really bad.”

Keito choked on the air he was breathing. “What? No! This has nothing to do with the sex.”

“So then the sex was good,” Hikaru huffed. They stopped for another stoplight, the caution light flickering until the sign turned solid. “I’m not seeing the problem here.”

“But there is a problem.” He stuffed his hands as deep into his pockets as he could, one trying to hide his boxers the best he could. “I just don’t want this to ruin our friends. I like the guy a lot, and I don’t want it to get awkward.”

“Keito, let me be blunt with you.” The crosswalk changed, and Hikaru looked both ways before crossing. “Something like sex isn’t going to ruin your friendship. Yeah, it’ll be a little awkward or whatever but you’ll be back to normal before you know it.”

Keito sighed. Hikaru’s words were music to his ears. They were exactly the words he had been looking for, the promise that everything would be alright in the end. There was nothing more to worry about. When he texted Yamada later it would be like nothing had happened between them.

“Or you’ll start fucking on a regular basis.”

In a moment he lost his balance, tripping over his own shoe and landing face first on the concrete. He barely had time to pull his hands out of his pockets to catch himself.

“What?”

Hikaru lent him a hand and helped him get off the sidewalk. “I mean, it happened with me and my best friend. Probably gunna head back to his place later to play some Mario Cart or something after work.” He shrugged. “It’s just the type of guys Yabu and I are.”

“But not everyone can be like you and your best friend, Hikaru-san.” Keito frowned. “Yamada and I…we’re different.”

“Alright,” Hikaru said. “Explain it to me then.”

He didn’t know where to start, so he decided at the very beginning, before Yamada even knew what his name was. 

Since coming back from his study abroad from England, he had always been the odd one out. His mind had difficulties switching from English to Japanese after being away a year, and he knew his classmates laughed about his troubles. He heard their whispers and their sneers every time he misspoke in class. 

The ones that wouldn’t were few and far between he spotted quickly, particularly a boy from his calculus class. To Keito, he had a pretty face that was, more often that not, intensely focused on what their professor had to say, discerning the complex algorithms and formulas they were taught. Each time he was called on, he was carefully scrawl his method of calculating the answer on the board only for their professor to dissect each portion for why it was wrong. 

It was cute how flustered he got each time he was wrong, but Keito walked by the boy many times at lunch to see him surrounded by a large group of friends, laughing and chatting, while he slaved over his textbook. He was passionate about his work and, from afar, Keito could appreciate that. He knew what it was like to look at something and have it be completely foreign.

It didn’t take him long to learn the boy’s name, Yamada Ryosuke, a name that fit him. Despite learning it, Keito couldn’t find the courage to go up and talk to him. Several times he stayed behind in class, taking a few extra minutes to pack his things up as long as Yamada did. In that one moment he had, to reach out and talk to him as a person, Keito drew back. He couldn’t find the words no matter how hard he tried. 

Ultimately, it was Chinen that pushed them together. 

The night before his calculus final, Chinen thought it would be fun to read scary stories as Keito did a final review for the test. Those cursed words kept flying around his head when he tried to sleep, preventing him from entering the world of dreams. He packed his backpack with everything he needed to study for his final and made the long trek across campus to the library. If anything, he could focus on his work there and possible sleep a little under the tables.

The night was far from his expectations. While trying to get to the bathroom, he mistook one of the cleaning staff for a ghost in his sleep deprived state and accidentally wandered into the study room Yamada had claimed. After a few words, Yamada had agreed to accompany him to the bathroom in exchange for Keito’s study guide. 

It hadn’t gone as expected. After being attacked by the cleaning lady and questioned by campus security, they were released only to miss their final exam. Keito wasn’t quite sure how it happened, perhaps from the absurd nature of that night, but he asked Yamada if he wanted to have lunch with him, and Yamada…he accepted. 

It was as if they were inseparable. Every free moment Keito had in between classes he was with Yamada. They slowly built up their own friend group, inviting their own roommates until the four of them would start hanging out on weekends together. 

The more he talked, rambling about his memories and appreciation towards his best friend, the slower Hikaru walked. With each words time slowed down between them until finally they were stopped at the last crosswalk before they came into university grounds.

“What the hell are you doing, Keito?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You need to get your ass back to that guy’s place right now.” Hikaru shoved him back the way they came.

“What are you talking about?” He stumbled a little before catching himself. There was no way he was going to fall again. “I need to get back to my dorm and at least put my-”

“No, you’re going to turn back around and get back to that Yamada dude’s place and talk to him face to face,” Hikaru crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re so obviously in love it physically hurts me. If you don’t go, your friendship is going to be ruined.”

Hikaru was a brick wall. No matter how he tried to get around the older boy, Hikaru would stop him in his tracks and block his route. Left, right, even trying to go in between his long legs didn’t work. Every possible solution was a dead end. 

“Don’t you have work?” Keito huffed.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll make it on time.”

He was smirking. The damned idiot was smirking when, not even five minutes before he had been laughing and making sarcastic remarks and now he was smirking. All Keito wanted to do was go home and sleep off his hangover, and here Hikaru was, mocking him.

“You don’t know me, but trust me on this,” Hikaru continued. He crossed his arms over his chest. “You will regret this for the rest of your life if you don’t turn around. I’d bet you five dollars on this.”

It was a long moment, the two staring at each other before Keito sighed. He wasn’t going to win this argument. He knew it. Hikaru was too set in his opinion to give in. He might as well go back.

“I’m not doing this for the money,” Keito said. “I’m doing this cause you’re making me.”

“And you’ll thank me later,” Hikaru said. He waved as Keito turned to walk away.

He didn’t look back. He didn’t want to see the satisfied look on Hikaru’s face that he won or see how long Hikaru was standing there. 

His plan was simple when he got back to Yamada’s. He’d apologize for getting so trashed and beg for forgiveness. A simple night of stupidity would not ruin everything they had built up.

He never admitted it out loud, but Yamada was important to him. The shell he had built around himself cracked the moment they met, fighting off “ghosts” in the dead of night before finals. Yamada had wormed his way into Keito’s life as easily as he had come.

There were bad memories, but who didn’t? When Yamada was a little too focused on his work or even when things didn’t go according to his plan, the frustration that took over was frightening. He had difficulty balancing school and life, which made it difficult to get a hold of him around midterms and finals.

But he had his good sides. How kind he was and how he always thought of his friends. Even for their hardest tests, Yamada would always try and help them study the best he could, even if he was busy himself.

In such a short amount of time, Yamada had become the center of his world, and Keito liked that. He liked having other friends, besides Chinen, to spend time with. He liked being wanted. He liked the gentle smile Yamada gave him when he noticed him in a crowd of people. He loved how warm he felt, knowing that smile was purely for him and him alone. He especially loved how Yamada would hug him, engulfing himself into Keito’s larger frame, as a greeting and how fast his heart would beat in those moments. 

Yamada Ryosuke was the person he had always wanted and needed to have in his life. And he was a fucking idiot for not seeing it sooner.

He ran.

His mind wouldn’t let him admit Hikaru was right just yet. He needed to see it with his own two eyes, to see if he felt the same. He didn’t know how he would approach it. It had to be done, that much was certain. At the very least, he needed to say those words out loud and make them real.

The elevator ride was an eternity, shooting up eight floors with the speed of a snail. Each door he passed felt as if the next would never come as he tried to avoid running down the hallway. The door was unlocked, just the way he left it, so he let himself in.

Yamada was there, sitting and curled into a ball. His face was hidden behind his arms, but he jerked up when he heard Keito enter. Keito stopped where he stood.

Crying.

He had been crying. All alone. Keito’s chest hurt looking at him. His best friend. He had hurt him by leaving.

Hikaru had been right.

“Keito, I’m so sorry,” Yamada stammered. “It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have made you drink last night and you wouldn’t hate me if-”

A moment. That’s all it took for Keito to cross the room, surrounding Yamada’s face with his hands and pulling him in for a kiss. Yamada’s lips were as soft as his mind remembers, so easy to get lost in. Even with last nights alcohol on his tongue, he still managed to taste like the fire and passion Keito knew him for. 

Keito pulled back and rested his forehead on Yamada’s own. 

“I’ve told you before. I could never hate you,” he whispered, rubbing small circles into Yamada’s cheeks. “I love you, Yama-chan.”

He couldn’t see it, but he could feel the smile radiating off of Yamada as he wrapped his arms around Keito’s shoulders. “I love you too, Keito.”


End file.
